


Edge of Paradise

by marimoes



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Childhood Friends, Drinking, E in later chapters, Fuckbuddies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: Out in the valley, kissing the ocean, is a city called Paradise. It's sits in it's own micro-climate, allowing for the residents to never really know what the weather is going to be. A concept not foreign to Kidd, or Law, seeing as they've lived there their whole lives. Much like their hometown, they too sit in a micro-climate of their own design. Feelings built up around them like a cloudy wall.When it's good, it's good. When it's bad, they'd rather be anywhere else.
Relationships: Eustass Kid/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Edge of Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [m_rosenkov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_rosenkov/gifts).



> Christmas present for my main Kiddlaw lover May. <3 You roped me into these two, I can't believe it.

It’s like this: they hang out, they ignore each other, they fuck. Over and over they follow the same winding path, acting like it won’t lead them to the same end that it always does. When they get there, they act surprised when they’re pressed against each other in the dim light of a streetlamp. 

Pretending that Law doesn’t already have condoms in his back pocket, ready to go at a moment’s notice. It’s this way, and has been this way, since they were eighteen. After the night that they got drunk at Killer’s party when he was back in town from school. How he was still in school, they didn’t bother asking. 

All they cared about was that the beer was cheap and free flowing. 

It tasted like ass. Most beer does, really, and Law can’t even look at a silver can without wanting to hurl these some eight years later. Regardless, they drank too much, and one thing led to another. Another being Kidd, pushed all the way into Law over the guest bathroom sink, panting like a dog beyond heat. 

When they woke up the next morning, they swore that they wouldn’t do it again. That it was because they were drunk, and that it didn’t mean anything. After all, this was their last summer together before Law went away to school, and Kidd...well. Kidd stayed. 

Throughout the years, they continued the dance each time Law was back in town. Hang out, ignore each other for a few days — maybe weeks if it was the summer — and then fuck. Drink together, swear off of it, and repeat. Except, now, with Law returning home to practice whatever kind of bullshit he’s been studying, it’s changed their rhythm. 

Kidd works at his old man’s shop, fixing cars for cheap, and making a quick buck selling weed every now and then. It’s not a fun life, nor is it sustainable, but for now he’s fine. He’s fine, he tells himself as Law claws into his back for the third time that week. They’re fine. 

Everything is fine. 

Law falls off of him, rolling over onto the other side of the bed and groans. It’s mixed with a laugh. Nothing is funny about what they just did, and irritation scratches Kidd’s chest, making marks that match the ones Law just left on his back. Good thing it’s winter, Kidd hates going out with Law’s marks all over his body. 

Makes him have to face things he doesn’t want to, like how he feels when he catches a hickey on his neck in the bathroom mirror. 

“What’s so funny?” Kidd grumbles pulling the condom off before swiftly tossing it across the room. It’s so annoying that Law refuses to just let him go bare. Clean up is a little easier though. “Do I need to fuck you again to get you quiet?” 

Law rolls over, hair stuck to his head with sweat, and his smile gleams in the low light of the room. His teeth sharp like an animals would be, daunting while hunting their prey, but the game is over. At least, Kidd hopes that it is. That last round wore him out — not that he would tell Law that.

“I missed you.” Law says, and his tone is far from teasing. Kidd wishes it were. 

“You’ve seen me every day this week, and we’ve fucked three times. Are you getting soft on me here? Is being a doctor really getting to you that bad?” Kidd huffs and pushes himself up to sit back against the headboard. Law moves over, letting his hand glide along Kidd’s thigh, caressing the soft skin. “Stop touching me, Trafalgar.” 

Law laughs and rolls back over to the other side, grabbing something from the nightstand. It’s a vape, or something of the like, and when he exhales it smells like...tea? Kidd stares as he makes small vapor rings from his mouth, and raises his eyebrows when Law holds it out. He takes it, inhaling deep, and sighs out his exhale all at once. 

Matcha. 

“Didn’t think I would catch a doctor using one of these. Aren’t they terrible for you?” Kidd asks, and inhales another deep breath. 

Law takes it from his hand as Kidd exhales, and inhales another pull. Their breath floats, hazing the room, mixing together. Tangling much like their bodies were only moments ago. Gone, just as easy as the vapor is from the air 

“Everything is bad for you. We’re all gonna die from something, and my patients drove me _insane_ today. There was this one woman-”

“Stop.” Kidd says, and holds up his hand, putting a physical barrier between them, “We don’t do this.” 

Law pushes himself up to sit, eyes squinting, “The fuck you mean _‘we don’t do this’_?” 

Kidd grumbles swinging his legs off the bed and stretches upwards. He pulls on his good arm, rotating it gently before switching sides. He hates the cold, it makes his prosthetic act up, and the nerve endings on his stump always tense up. Where is the heat? Their town called Paradise; it should be warm year-round given the moniker.

Yet.

“Talk. Like we care.” Kidd says and snatches his shirt from the floor. The collar is torn from earlier when they were scrambling to get in, and Law dug his fingers into it. Rabid. 

Law mirrors him, sliding off into the other side of the room, but rather than grab his clothes he just walks around the end of the bed. Kidd envies little in this world, but Law’s frame is one of them. Lanky bastard with perpetually tan skin, gorgeous in its own right, and he went and covered it in ink. 

Could it be one of the reasons he’s doing residency back home, rather than somewhere far away? Kidd doesn’t know. It’s not that he couldn’t have gone. Law is smart, terrifyingly smart, and Kidd wonders just why he came back. He could’ve gone anywhere with his grades. Could’ve studied under world class surgeons, and yet he’s back in Paradise. 

No matter what the reason is, Kidd hopes it isn’t because of him, but somewhere deep he wishes it were. 

Law brushes past him, heading through the door, and Kidd can’t help but be drawn to watching him go. Padding down the hallway, red flush of sex still coloring his skin in the dark as he heads to the bathroom — it’s gorgeous. 

“Alright, fine.” Law says, voice echoing down the hall, “We won’t talk. Just come take a shower you disgusting brute, I think I made your back bleed.” 

Kidd swipes a curious hand over his shoulder, and his fingertips come back red. A smear of paint on a worn canvas that’s been hanging in the museum for years. No title ever given, only a scene that no one can start to describe. Renaissance.

A smirk graces Kidd’s lips, and he tosses the shirt back down on the bed. 

* * *

Kidd lets his head fall back between his shoulder blades with a groan. Law is late, like always, and Kidd was already ten minutes late from the time they agreed. Why do they bother setting times if they’re like this anyways? He blows out a sigh, rocking the chair back and forth making it click against the tile floor. 

Something in his stomach stirs when he hears the door chime. He tries to look, cautiously, so as not to seem too eager, and grumbles when it isn’t Law. They haven’t seen each other in weeks — six to be exact — and Kidd didn’t think he gave a shit until the other day when Law texted him. The name pulling down on the notification made him uneasy. 

Not in a bad way, but more of when you’re standing in line for a really intense roller coaster that you haven’t ridden in a while. You’ve done it before, and lived, so that’s fine. Nothing makes you feel better looking at that first drop though. No amount of previous experience is able to convince your brain that you’re going to be ok, and that your stomach needs to stop doing flips. 

Law’s initial drop goes below ground. You can’t see where it ends, only where it starts, and after you get off the ride you feel like death. Death that’s full of adrenaline that is so high that you almost loop back around to ride it again immediately. Last time that’s where Kidd fucked up, he rode the ride too many times and got sick. 

So here he is, six weeks later, staring it down again remembering just what it entails, but doing it anyways. 

“Eustass-ya.” 

The word bites at Kidd’s ear and he leans his head back. Law is there, wearing that stupid old yellow hoodie that he wore in high school and suddenly Kidd is eighteen again. Throwing up in the back of Killer’s truck again. Wishing Law was there with him — and he is. 

“You’re late.” Is all Kidd says, letting the chair slam back against the floor, and a nearby table gives him a sideways glance, “Fuck off.” 

Law holds up a hand, whether in apology or defense, Kidd isn’t sure. Whatever it is, he knows Law doesn’t mean it, but he’s always been better at dealing with people than Kidd has. Something that comes with the field he’s in, Kidd figures. 

“Now, now, I’m not — well, fuck, yeah — I’m late.” Law says, pulling back his sleeve to look at his watch. That same trademark grin sitting snug on his face. The cold is starting to ease up, but it’s still enough to color Law’s nose. It’s cute. 

“Why do we try to set times when we aren’t able to meet them to save our lives? I had to sit here and scare off some kid that was asking about my arm because you weren’t here. It was fun, but still, I hate people.” Kidd grumbles rolling his left shoulder. It’s hurting again today, but what’s new?

“Cold still bothering it?” Law asks, hand curling around the top of his chair as he props himself up, “I could prescribe you something, you’d just have to come in for it to be on the record.” 

Kidd blanches, “ _God, no._ I’m not going into your hospital. You’d be wearing one of those white coats with your name on it.” 

Law laughs, low and genuine, and Kidd feels the hair stand up on his neck. He really missed hearing that, like it’s the click of the lift up the first hill. Drawing Kidd, up, up, up, until he’s ready to drop. The view from here is the best, and it’s where he wishes they could stay. Here, talking as friends, and nothing else. 

But Kidd has ridden this ride before, and he knows about the drop. 

Law walks back around the edge of the table, sinking down until his lips sit level with Kidd’s ear. His breath is cold, how, Kidd isn’t sure, but it makes him shift, nonetheless. Keeping his eyes forward towards the cash registers, he waits for Law to speak. To say the words that will no doubt drive him to that initial edge, dangling him over the side. 

“If I were a betting man,” Law murmurs, voice like molasses, “You’d _love_ to see me in that coat. Get you right on the table that way, spread you wi-” 

“Sir?” 

Law leans up with a grin, and Kidd holds still. Body frozen like they’re under attack. 

“I’m sorry, can we get by you?” A woman asks, and Kidd watches as Law smiles, shifting closer into him, almost hovering in Kidd’s lap. He watches as she passes by, hand curled around a small child that is following behind her, “Sorry, thanks again.” 

Law nods, and when he goes to lean back up, Kidd nearly wraps an arm around him to drag him into his lap. He wants to plummet. Right here in this store, and he doesn’t care who is watching them. The high of the fall is fuzzy and Kidd is desperate for clarity. 

Instead, Law steadies himself, a satisfied smile on his face as he adjusts the edges of his hoodie. 

“You get the point.” Law says and turns to look towards the kitchen. Kidd watches him as he scans the menu and winces, “You think they have anything that isn’t bread surrounded, or filled?” 

Kidd barks out a huff and Law rolls his eyes, “It’s a cafe. What did you expect when you picked this place?” 

Law’s fingers tap against the chair impatiently, still reading all the options and he groans. Stopping all at once, his hand curls around the chair and he pulls it out, letting it scrape against the floor. Sliding into sit, his eyes are dark, and Kidd knows what he’s thinking before he even says anything. But he dare not ruin it. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Law whispers across the table, smiling with his teeth showing, “What do you say?” 

The ride car stops at the edge of the drop, hovering in the air, and Kidd leans back in his chair. His tongue slips from his mouth, wetting his bottom lip, and the hunger that sits in Law’s eyes changes. Turns from peckish to starving with a single blink. 

“Your place.” Kidd says, and falls. 

* * *

The crack of the cap coming off the bottle is near euphoric to Kidd’s ears. A shitty week, ending a shitty month, and now it’s all over. Soft burning of alcohol warms his throat, and he nearly chugs the whole thing in one go. The only thing stopping him is sitting a foot away, an identical bottle upturned on his lips. 

Warmth has returned to Paradise, with the chill now only coming at nights. Kidd isn’t happy just yet, but it’s enough that they’re back up here, and that’s good. Law is sat, one leg curled into his chest and the other out straight against the hood of the car. Kidd sitting cross legged beside him, and the rest of a six pack is between them. 

The cliff outside of Paradise is steep, so the railing around it is tough, and has been enough to keep people from accidentally falling to their death for years now. Still, people go up there. Whether to camp away from the city lights just to see the stars a little better, or to fuck in the back of their cars, it’s never empty when it’s warm. So, Kidd was surprised when they pulled up and no one was there. 

“Damn,” Law says, smacking his lips on the rim of the bottle, “The edge. Haven’t done this in—” 

“A year.” Kidd supplies, finishing the sentence, “Been too damn cold to do anything of value here.” 

Law looks over to him, eyes low beneath his hat. That stupid, spotted hat. Makes him nearly unfuckable — nearly. Still, it has some charm to it, but that doesn’t stop Kidd from wanting to take it and chuck it over the edge into the valley. 

Maybe a raccoon could get off on it or something. 

“Guess you’re right.” Law sighs, leaning his head back against the windshield. It groans under his weight, settling. The car is pieced together, handiwork of Kidd himself, and his prized possession. He started building it when he was sixteen and worked for the parts in his dad’s shop. 

Law isn’t sure how it’s still running all these years later. 

“So,” Kidd starts, but then takes a swig forcing a pause. A leaden beat of silence that pours down his throat as he considers what he’s about to say, “So, you’re leaving?” 

Law’s eyes flit over as he too takes a drink, and the condensation of the bottle rolls over the top of his knuckles. They’ve been avoiding this, and each other, for weeks now. Tonight, being like their last hurrah, a present for them both. A token of memory. 

“Two months.” Law manages out, leaning forward to rest his elbow onto his knee, and sits his head atop it. The sun is starting to set and it’s turning the sky a wine red. Another day over and dying in front of their eyes, “I leave in two months, but only for a year.” 

Kidd tsks and Law doesn’t turn to look at him. He knows what Kidd looks like right now, and to confirm it would only make his chest hurt worse. So, he takes another drink, and lets that burn inside him instead. 

“The opportunity is too good to pass up, working under that man.” Law tries to reason, out into the air of the Edge, and maybe to himself, “Vegapunk might be odd, but he does incredible work. I don’t even know how I got accepted.” 

Kidd huffs out a laugh, and finally Law turns to look at him. The sun is coloring his skin and sunglasses like a cracked stained glass. Almost like the one from the church he and his family used to go to when they were little. All those years ago. 

Kidd, however, is a different kind of blessing. 

Sin wrapped in something deeper, held in the hands of the night. Whatever it is between them, their pacing, their dance, it’s been off kilter for a while now. Now, with Law leaving for a year, not even coming back for the Holidays — the music has stopped. It’s unheard of. 

“Of course you got accepted, you’re fucking brilliant.” Kidd sighs and reaches his arm up, placing a hand on Law’s shoulder, “This is what we knew would happen,” Law blows out a denial and Kidd’s hand curls harder into him making the fabric of his black coat crinkle, “It is, Law. We knew that one day it would all be over.”

“You’re being dramatic. I’ll be back,” Law grumbles and tries to look away, but can’t, not when Kidd slams his drink down on the hood between them, “ _Kidd_.” 

“Don’t fucking come back! Why would you come back here? There is nothing here! Nowhere to grow. You’ll just sit in a stupid five-dollar pot of soil like I am, and that’s no life for you.” Kidd says, voice raising with each word until he’s nearly screaming. Not at Law, though, and they both know it. “I have nothing to lose or gain. _You can be something_.” 

“Cut your shit, Kidd. I’m not going to throw you a pity party, it’s not the end of the world.” Law bites back and tosses back the rest of his drink, chugging as it spills over his lips. When it’s empty, he chucks it forward over the edge with a yell, and they wait for a moment. 

They wait for the sound of the glass breaking at the bottom of the ravine. Before it gets the chance, they’re pressed together. Desperate tongues wrapped around the other, breath hard and loud, muffling everything around them. If the glass doesn’t break then it isn’t over, and it can’t be broken if they don’t hear it. 

Kidd bites Law’s lower lip, and the taste of copper hangs on his tongue. Their teeth click together as Law shifts, moving to hastily straddle Kidd’s hips. Hard hands dig beneath jackets and shirts, grasping onto what is still there. What is still real between them as the light behind them slips faster and faster beneath the horizon. 

It’s like this now: they makeout, they fuck — and Law leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno how often or how long the updates to this story will be, but I do know that I'm not finished yet. So, let me know what you think!
> 
> Twitter: @__moes__  
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle


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